Helen took the letter.
"Thank you, sir," she said, and, eager to read it. "You will allow me, won't you?"
"Certainly," said the count bowing, and he appeared to become absorbed in a portrait of Herr von Beling in his uniform.
The letter was all vows of love and protestations of tenderness such as lovers write to each other. Old phrases always new; flowers plucked on the day of creation, and, after six thousand years, as sweet as on the first day.
Having finished the letter, as Count Monte Nuovo still looked straight at the portrait:
"Sir," said Helen, in a low voice.
"Fräulein?" answered the count, approaching her; "Karl lets me hope that you will give me some details yourself," and he adds: 'Before coming to grips with the Prussians, he will, or indeed we shall perhaps, have the pleasure of seeing you again.'"
"It is possible, Fräulein, especially if we meet the Prussians in three or four days."
"Where did you leave him?"
"At Vienna, where he was organizing his volunteer regiment. We arranged a meeting-place at Frankfort, my friend Karl von Freyberg having done me the honour of wishing to serve under my orders."